


1:30

by orphan_account



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Kissing, Pre-smut, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 02:51:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5480537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr request: Twelve and Clara, a hotel room and a romantic night.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1:30

**Author's Note:**

> Tbh, this is pretty much all I can write these days.  
> Honestly, I can't write more like 500 words these days.

Clara lay on her side, and placed her book face down on the bed. She stretched her legs, unable to be bothered to get up. The curtains were open, allowing a generous view of the city, as well as the hotel room, but there was nothing in the room the city didn't need to see. They were in Paris in 1920 something. A light snow fell on the quiet European night, dulling the of rest of the city but failing to obscure the light from the top of the Eiffel Tower as well as lights from other buildings from her sight. The Doctor was in the lobby, having left Clara to her devices, not that she minded. She turned the light out, attempting to get some rest. 

She awoke a few hours by the Doctor throwing the door open, loudly. She stirred and threw the sheet off her to look at him, his waistcoat was open and the top buttons of his (now severely rumpled) starch white shirt, his hair was was tousled madly.  
“What time is it?” she said as she sat up, any trace of sleep gone “I was asleep"  
“1:30. Fully dressed?” He raised an eyebrow at her and she noticed that she was still wearing the clothes she'd been wearing all day. She shrugged as a response. “Since, you don't need to sleep and I do, you can read to me”. He groaned but picked up the book anyways “It is a truth universally acknowledged.....”

Halfway through the chapter, Clara cut him off  
“Kiss me” she requested, he gave a look, a strange mix of surprise, skepticism and want. He placed a gentle hand on her cheek, tilting her head up and pressing his lips to hers, so soft it felt like he was fading. She, however, would have none of that. She threaded her fingers into his unruly curls, she kissed him hard and traced her tongue along his lips until he opened up to her. His tongue found her mouth and stroked her. She had to admit, he was a good kisser, he didn't know what she liked, but he had an hair of confidence that made everything move he made feel like the right one. He then moved his attention to her neck, sucking at particularly sensitive spot, coaxing low moans from her lips as she clenched her fingers around her pillow and fluttered her eyes shut. Before she knew it, her shirt had been unbuttoned and removed as he fumbled with her bra clasp, while he continued to kiss her neck, from her jaw to her collarbone and up again.  
“Doctor” she whispered and opened her eyes.  
“Do you want to stop” he whispered back and she shook her head, and pointed to the uncurtained window. He got up and draped the cloth over the windows, thereby depriving the city of its eyes into the room. Clara's eyes fluttering again as climbed on top of her and continued to kiss her neck, while she moaned underneath him.

Maybe, there was something not for Paris' eyes in that hotel room after all


End file.
